Not Insomnia
by Angsty Glowstick
Summary: Title sucks, yes. Bryan is restless and can't sleep. He finds refugee in Yuri's bed. What is the outcome?


**Hello! This is the result of being completely bored on a long car trip. It's just something that popped into my head and I decided to write it. Bryan and Yuri are fucking sexy, what can I say. I own neither of them, nor any others characters in the beyblade series (ha, I wish) and hope you enjoy reading this. I apologize in advance for what I'm sure is an avalanche of misspellings and grammar errors, as I do not have a text-editing program. Damn you, word pad!! Please bear with it, I'll try to get it better edited later.**

**bybybybybybybybybybybybybybyby**

Bryan was restless at night.

In the beginning, he would shift and turn on his bed, the bedsheets feeling hot and stuffy against his nude form. All night long his body would be in constant motion, his sleep choppy, and he would leave his bed the next morning tired and cranky.

It wasn't insomnia, Bryan knew it wasn't. These uncomfortable nights were not spend shifting in an attempt to fall asleep-- they were stretches of time in which he would drift off, then, a few minutes later, would become aware as though something insubstancial and silent had murmured wakefullness to him.

Thus began his shift at a larger scale: he would plop himself up against the headboard of his bed, occasionally easing to lie flat on the cold, hardwood floor of his bedroom. Eventually he began sitting at the chair at his desk, sometimes resting his head on the tabletop, others leaving it rolling off the back of the chair, in fruitless attempts at consistent rest. Through it all he would turn on and off his desktop lamp, shift items around in his messy room, and reside in various states of dress and undress. None of it worked. It became a tiresome routine that grated on his nerves, so he began to take different measures.

He ignored his housemates' comments when he began sleeping on the couch, ignored Yuri's stare when the redhead found him alseep, and wakened him, at the kitchen table at four in the morning. He ignored Ian's complaints when the short boy couldn't use the bathroom because Bryan had fallen asleep for five minutes in the bathtub with the door locked.

He ignored it all, but his frustration was brewing inside, and he snapped one day when Spencer recommended he see a doctor.

"It's _not_ insomnia," he ground out when his blonde housemate attempted to insist on the matter. Seeing that he wasn't about to win, Spencer shrugged and left him alone.

As the days crawled by, Bryan's sleeping routine became more and more restless, and more and more extreme. It therefore wasn't completely surprising that Yuri woke up with a jolt one summer night when a heavy form plopped beside him on the bed and immediately snored away. Too sleepy himself to do anything, Yuri shifted away from the lilac-haired man, cursing him mentally, before drifting off. He woke up at dawn to find the other side of his bed unoccupied but the sheets still warm and registered blearily that Bryan must have left before blacking out again.

In the morning Yuri decided not to mention the matter, now seeming insignificant. But when that night as he was falling asleep his door opened and Bryan lay silently beside him, he thought that maybe he should have. He lay in the dark wondering if he should say something, but wondered too long and his housemate fell asleep before he could make up his mind. And, unfailingly, Bryan was at his door the night after as well, his body creating a niche for himself in the right side of Yuri's bed.

This quickly built into a routine: Bryan, uninvited yet again, falling like a solid rock beside Yuri's form and sleeping uninterrupted until dawn, when he would disappear back to his own room before Yuri could come awake. Yuri did not miss the fact that Bryan's weird sleeping habits, which had picked up about two months previously, abruptly stopped. He did not know the reason; perhaps his bed, which was almost indentical to every other bed in the house, was a more comfortable sleeping surface than any other in their residence. What he did know, however, after one week of this spontaneous, unagreed-upon sleeping arrangement, was that he was getting aggravated. He did not want Bryan sleeping in his bed and he hated that the other had not spoken a word about it, of permission or otherwise.

_I'll be damned,_ Yuri thought, _if I be the one to open this subject first._

They were seated at the breakfast table, Bryan obliviously eating a huge bowl of cereal as Yuri glared, unnoticed, at his sideframe. The lilac-haired man's big muscles, obvious because he wore a tanktop, flexed as he raked one hand through his messy hair. His grey eyes appeared brighter without the fatigue black rings around them that had incidentally disappeared when he began sleeping in Yuri's room. He looked content as he chewed slowly, savouring the honey and milk taste of his breakfast.

Yuri's head rotated a few inches, eyes seeking Spencer's, who swallowed his mouthful and fiddled with his jam-and-butter toast. Yuri was not eating. The night before while Bryan was using the bathroom the redhead had ranted about the situation to the oldest member of their group, demanding he do something about it. Now, Ian, seated across from Yuri and on Spencer's right, looked back and forth between the two while simultaneously shoving mouthfuls of milky cereal into his mouth.

"You seem more at ease for the past week, Bryan," Spencer spoke up in way of casual morning conversation.

Bryan nodded noncommitally.

"Is it because your sleeping problem finally solved itself?" Spencer prodded.

"Yeah."

The blonde chuckled, "Yuri's bed must be unearthly comfortable, then."

Bryan smirked, looking up at him. "Hm. Why, is there a problem?" He eyed Spencer and then Yuri, and then Spencer.

Yuri said nothing. Spencer held up his hands and shook his head. Bryan returned to his breakfast. Feeling Yuri's cutting gaze on him, Spencer shrugged and withdrew from the table.

A few days went by. Bryan seemed to have fallen into his perfect place, unrelenting with his new preferred sleeping location. Yuri said nothing. On some nights when the air conditioner chilled them, Bryan would, sleeping, pull the covers off Yuri, having neglected to bring his own. Yuri would yank them back but said nothing. When the air conditioner level was reduced due to complaints from a certain redhead to a certain blonde, Bryan began showing up clad in only boxers. Yuri still said nothing.

But one night, thinking the matter over as he lay sleepless listening to his now roommate's soft snoring, Yuri decided that he had had enough. The lilac-haired man was hogging his bed, with no considerations for the room owner's privacy or (admittedly unvoiced) wishes. And even though a small, nagging thought swam to the forefront of Yuri's mind, reminding him of the real reason as to why this setting bothered him, he squashed it like a cockroach and huffily turned over.

In early morning Yuri came awake and tried to roll over to the other side of his bed. He hit something solid and quickly rolled away and up into a sitting position, his eyes half open and his hair a mess. Bryan was lying there on his back, hands behind his head as though he had been examining the ceiling. The bedcovers covered him up to the stomach, not fully concealing the hard abdomen muscles of his naked torso. He was looking at Yuri now with a raised eyebrow as a result of the impact. Flustered, feeling harrassed, and slightly embarrased, Yuri raked his fingers through his crimson hair.

"You're still here," he said, rather unnecessarily. He was used to the other leaving before dawn.

Bryan regarded him for a moment, "Does that bother you?"

Yuri gave it some thought, swallowed back a bubbling "Yes" with difficulty, and instead said, "No."

Bryan shifted on the bed, "I can leave if you want."

Yuri bit back, "Well, it _is_ my room," and replied with, "I said no, damn it."

He made to move off the bed but his arm was grabbed with enough force to keep him in place. Angry, he turned abruptly to face the other.

"Why do you sleep here, Bryan?"

Bryan looked surprised before responding. "For a while I couldn't sleep properly. You know that. So I experimented. I could here."

The redhead jerked his arm free, "That's not good enough."

They remained in silence for a moment, Yuri standing with loose pyjama bottoms and a tight tanktop and Bryan still lying on the bed shirtless. Bryan moved the covers off his body and sat up, revealing black boxer shorts that contrasted heavily against his creamy skin.

"I don't understand," he said after a while.

Yuri, whose heart had thud frantically, relaxed. "Nevermind, Kuznetsov."

He heard a scoff and looked behind him quizically. Bryan's arms had crossed themselves and his eyebrows had knitted slightly, his eyes meeting Yuri's stare.

"Well, you going to tell me or not?" he asked as though the other did not just decline to do that.

"I already said NeverMind, I was hoping you weren't deaf."

"Why mention it then?"

"Don't test my morning mood, damn it!"

"Fine Then. I can see you're PMS-ing. As usual."

"Fucker."

"Prick."

"Jerk." Yuri just knew that he had to be the one with the last word. Bryan seemed to give up.

Their petty, childish little spat came to and end with Bryan grandly getting off the bed and power walking to the door. From his vantage point, Yuri saw the next event as if in slow motion. Bryan seemed to hitch for a second, his foot catching on something on the floor, hover for another, and then he came crashing down fast, having tripped. He surfaced, snarling and flaming red. Yuri, who had felt shock, sympathy, and then triumph in quick succession, burst out laughing despite himself.

"Fuck it!" Bryan growled, almost ripping Yuri's discarded trousers in two as he whipped them away, "The hell this doing on the floor?"

Feeling much better, Yuri grinned evilly at him, "I'm not a sleazy ass like you, Bryan, I don't throw stuff of the floor. Probably was on the bed and you kicked if off in your sleep."

Sitting openlegged on the floor, face still pink, Bryan crossed his arms and still managed to look intimidating. "Bastard."

Yuri shrugged in a relaxed manner, still smirking, "Serves you right."

"Shut the hell up, SmartAss. I am now severely injured because of this shit."

Pausing mid stretch, Yuri gave him a degrading look.

"No really!" Bryan protested, "I think I twisted something."

"Right," the red-head replied, rolling his eyes.

"No really!" the other repeated, which confirmed that it was a lie.

"You're fucking annoying, you know that? Where the hell could you twist yourself tripping like that?"

"Here," Bryan pointed randomly and even he had to look to see where his own finger was pointing--his right shoulder. "Get your ass over here and have a look."

Yuri threw his hands un in the air and strolled over in frusturation, making a show of leaning down to examine the (only secretly admitted) sexy muscles around. Being so preoccupied with his mock task, he didn't see Bryan devilishly turning his head. He felt something warm and wet meet his mouth and an electric jolt ran through him to the tips of his fingers.

A murmur against his lips, "Is that why my answer is not good enough?"

He had no time for a reaction: a second later he was flipped and landed flat on his back, Bryan now up and stretching triumphantly. He smirked down at him as Yuri's head swam from both the sudden kiss and the impact. Thinking about the kiss, it seemed to slip through his fingers; it had been so brief and so precisely calculated that it made him ache for more of that feeling. He breathed deep, trying not to show how much the gesture shocked him, and glared up at the lilac-haired man. He tried to ignore how much more conscious of the other's nudity he was now. Bryan put both of his hands behind his head, winking and smirking at him. Yuri felt a stab of desire and let it out through a disguised snarl of anger. He should have known that Bryan's powerful arms could toss him across a river.

Yuri flexed his own impressive arm muscles threateningly, still lying on his back. He chose to ignore the kiss, not knowing how exactly to handle it. "If you ever do that again, I'll beat the crap out of you." He knew he was bluffing; one on one with Bryan he knew he could hold his own but also knew that there was a zero chance of winning.

Bryan gave him a small false pout, "Aw, and I kind of liked that kiss."

_Screw you to hell and back_, Yuri thought, floored, _literally_. His face was burning, and he had nothing to say. _What a fucker!_ Unpertrubed by the redhead's harmless glaring, Bryan whistled as he moved to the door, completely content with his revenge. Yuri was torn between being completely embarassed and not really wanting him to leave. When the other opened the door, he spoke up.

"Bryan."

Bryan merely looked behind his shoulder, not bothering to turn around.

Yuri bit his lip and quickly made his decision, "You can sleep here. Tonight." He felt lust course through him at the other's back muscles and buttocks. Bryan smirked and gave a single nod to his shoulder. He walked out and shut the door behind him, but not before Yuri saw a kind of wild beast being awaken in the side view of his expression.

_Fuck you, Kuznetsov_, Yuri thought in frusturation, meaning it both ways. His hand caressed his stomach and slowly dipped, trailing lower.

Outside, Bryan was leaning against the wall, his head back and eyes closed. He licked his lips. _I'm not sure if I can wait until tonight, Yuri,_ he thought, then smirked, _if you continue looking so ravish-able maybe I'll give you a little surprise. Or perhaps a big one._

And then, whistling once more, he strolled down the hall to the bathroom.

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**Reviews are great gifts, you know, and they are free. So please, shower me with gifts and keep this girl happy. (:**


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